Growing Together

Growing Together: An Invitation to Care for a Place

Over the past few years, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what builds community.

At first, I thought it was organizing events.

Then I realized it was really about creating places where people feel comfortable showing up, contributing something small, and getting to know one another.

That idea has slowly grown into something new.

It started with a few beautiful old trees on the grounds of Etowah Presbyterian Church and the adjoining parsonage.

When I moved here, I discovered the soil beneath those trees had become badly compacted after years of mowing and heavy equipment. The roots couldn’t breathe the way they should. With advice from experienced gardeners and the North Carolina Extension Service, I began drilling hundreds of holes beneath the trees, adding organic matter, compost, mulch, and anything else I could do to help rebuild healthy soil.

Around the same time, my friend Dean helped save the largest evergreen by cutting away enormous poison ivy vines that had climbed high into its branches. Every time I sit beneath that tree, I’m reminded that caring for a place is often something we do together.

What began as an effort to save a few trees has slowly become a much bigger question.

What if this land could become a place where people learn together?

What if some of the lawn became native plants that support bees, butterflies, birds, and other wildlife?

What if we experimented with regenerative gardening and healthier soil?

What if people shared cuttings, divided plants, seeds, compost, and ideas?

What if someone who doesn’t have room to garden at home had a place to try something new?

What if retired gardeners shared decades of experience with someone planting their very first flower?

What if children could discover worms, butterflies, and birds instead of just another patch of grass?

What if the knowledge already living in the Etowah Valley became one of our greatest resources?

The more I thought about it, the more I realized this isn’t really a garden project.

It’s a community stewardship project.

One of the greatest gifts of living in this valley is the incredible knowledge people carry with them. We have lifelong gardeners, farmers, foresters, bird watchers, beekeepers, landscapers, artists, naturalists, engineers, teachers, and people who simply love spending time outdoors.

I’d love to create a place where that knowledge can be shared.

Not through formal classes.

Not because one person has all the answers.

But because everyone knows something worth passing along.

Maybe you know how to root cuttings.

Maybe you’ve kept bees.

Maybe you understand composting.

Maybe you know which native shrubs thrive here.

Maybe you simply enjoy pulling weeds and spending an hour outside with good company.

Every bit of knowledge matters.

Every small contribution matters.

One thing I’ve learned through Connect Etowah NC is that people often want to be part of something, but they don’t necessarily want to run it. I understand that completely.

I don’t want to build another organization.

I don’t want to create another committee.

I’d much rather be a host than a project manager.

My hope is simply to create a welcoming place where neighbors can bring a little of what they know, a little of what they love, and a little of what they’re curious about.

Some people may come to plant.

Some may come to learn.

Some may come to teach.

Some may come to remember.

Some may simply enjoy sitting beneath the trees.

One of the ideas I’m especially excited about is creating a quiet Memory Garden beneath those same trees. After we lost our beloved cats, we buried them there because it had become such a peaceful place for our family. That experience made me wonder if others might appreciate a place where they could leave a small stone or another simple remembrance for someone they loved—a family member, a friend, or even a beloved pet connected to Western North Carolina. Not because anyone is buried there, but because memories deserve places to return to.

Everything doesn’t have to happen at once.

In fact, I hope it doesn’t.

The best community projects grow slowly.

They change as new people become involved.

They become richer because many hands—and many hearts—help shape them.

So this is an invitation.

If you’d like to help improve the soil, plant native flowers, rescue plants that need a new home, share gardening knowledge, observe pollinators, experiment with regenerative practices, create wildlife habitat, or simply spend a little time outdoors with neighbors, I’d love for you to be part of the journey.

You don’t have to make a huge commitment.

You don’t have to be an expert.

Bring one plant.

One idea.

One story.

One hour.

One memory.

One question.

That’s enough.

This blog will serve as the home for the project. I’ll share photos, experiments, successes, failures, volunteer days, and the lessons we learn together. My hope is that, years from now, we’ll be able to look back and see not just how the landscape changed, but how a community slowly grew alongside it.

After all, healthy communities and healthy landscapes have something in common.

Neither is created all at once.

Both grow one small contribution at a time.